A bouquet of carrots
by carrotgirlhatty
Summary: Finding the 2P personification of America at your doorstep at six in the morning is weird enough in England's opinion. What he has in his hand is even weirder. 2PUS1PUK 2P America x 1P England Rated T Warnings inside.


**...I have no idea...**

**I tried to mix my most favorite food in the world: CARROTS! With Hetalia. This happened.**

**Also I chose this pairing as I really like it but I don't think there's many stories about it and the ones I do normally mean Alfie has to share the limelight with his double.**

**So here's a little one shot just for him! :D**

**Alfie's 2P America by the way! I know some people call him Allen or something but I prefer Alfie! :3**

**Warnings: Possible OCCness, a bit of Swearing (seriously, I've already changed quite a bit cause I thought it was too excessive) a wedding, a small kiss, crossdressing and minor violence near the end.**

**I think that's everything but here's a warning for everything I've missed! ^-^**

**What's with me and emoticons today?**

**Also: **

_England's thought's_

**_2P America's thoughts_**

_BOTH OF THEIR THOUGHTS_

**Anyway...ENJOY!**

* * *

><p>England was not sure what the most weirdest element of his current situation was.<p>

Firstly, there was the fact that someone was at his door at six in the morning-far too early for visitors in his opinion.

Then there was the identity of this unexpected guest: the second player personification of America.

But without a doubt, the strangest part of this whole scenario was what the dark haired American was holding.

"Erm, Alfie? Why the bloody hell are you standing outside my door at six in the morning with a bunch of carrots?" Either Arthur was still dreaming or Alfie was blushing, probably a mix of the two. The American narrowed his eyes.

"It's a fucking bouquet, okay?" He gestured to the dark green ribbon tied around the vegetables to prove his point. The Brit sighed, well at least the 2P knew that he liked other colours than just the colours on his flag. It was a nightmare to tell which present was from who on birthdays and at christmas when they were all caked in the same red, white and blue wrapping-not that the Brit got many gifts but still...

"Okay...Then why the bloody hell are you standing outside my door at six in the morning with a _bouquet_ of carrots?" The American rolled his eyes as if he had just been asked the dumbest question in the world.

"Because I only grow vegetables and I don't know jack shit about flowers!"

"But why carrots?" He wasn't sure if it was because he was still half asleep but Arthur found the flustered American quite funny.

Funny and cute.

Wait, he did not just think that!

Luckily, the American couldn't read minds, he just shrugged.

"I don't know, just make a cake out of them or something."

"My oven burnt down last week, it hasn't been fixed yet."

"Then make juice."

"I haven't got a blender."

Alfie rubbed his temples.

"Then peel them and eat them raw or something." England shook his head.

"Francis came over yesterday and confiscated all my cooking knives and equipment saying it was for my own good because I'm a 'terrible cook' apparently. Stupid Frog, I can care for myself you know," he mumbled under his breath.

Meanwhile, Alfie wanted to tear his own hair out.

The plan had been just to shove the bouquet into Arthur's arms and leave before the Brit figured out the feelings the 2P had for him.

But that little pout the green eyed man was pulling right now. Grr! It was just so cute, he couldn't look away!

"For crying out loud, just take the fucking vegetables," he snapped, pushing them into England's hands.

"..." The Brit looked at the red eyed man before examining the crops in his grasp. Alfie sighed once again.

Okay, now this was just getting annoying.

"They're not poisoned," he said as Arthur sniffed them.

"Yeah, I've figured that out," came the Brit's reply. "I just want to make sure you didn't do anything sketchy when growing them. You know, like urinating on the patch rather than watering it or using some sort of messed up chemicals from that freckled twat I am forced to call my double."

Alfie almost choked on his own breath.

"What the-? Why would I do something as fucked up as that? I eat stuff that I grow too you know."

England chuckled.

"I guess you have a point, sorry. It's just that you giving me carrots in the unholy hours of the morning is a little...Weird." The 2P pulled a face.

"You're saying I'm weird?" He scoffed. "Say's the grown dude in the bunny PJs and matching slippers."

Now it was England's turn to be angry.

"Shut up! There's nothing wrong with what I'm wearing. If it was weird the they wouldn't make clothes like this in adult sizes. Besides, they're pyjamas, it's not like anyone's going to bloody see them." Alfie mentally face palmed.

Just how naive was this guy?

Arthur sighed.

"Look, if you want then just come in, just be lucky that I was thinking about getting up to make a cup of tea even before you showed up."

"But wouldn't Alfred get pissed if he found out?"

"Why should he? It may sound surprising but I'm his ex-guardian, not the other way around." The 2P smirked.

"Yeah, and we all know what an amazing, mature, intelligent nation he turned out to be."

"...Just get your arse inside before I change my mind."

The tanned man shrugged as he stepped inside and removed his shoes. England shut the door and led his visitor into the living room.

"Tea?"

"Coffee."

A quick eye roll was the only response Alfie got before the Brit disappeared into the kitchen.

"You can make yourself breakfast if you want," he called after the blonde. "I really don't give a shit about the whole host and guest manners thing."

"I can't, remember? France practically emptied my kitchen." Red eyes lit up.

"Fucking seriously? I thought you were joking?"

"See for yourself," he didn't need to be told twice. The 2P speed-walked into the kitchen, letting out a low whistle.

"Holy shit. You really weren't kidding."

To say that France had taken everything but the kitchen sink would not be exaggerating. Well, maybe a little as there was a kettle, fridge a couple of tea cups and the dining table and chairs left but still...

Arthur placed a hand on one hip as the other picked up a fresh mug of coffee.

"Like I told you a thousand times, no I wasn't. Now hurry up and drink your monstrosity of a hot drink and leave so I can go out and buy a bacon sandwich or something." The American raised an eyebrow.

"Erm...Well there's this amazing thing called cereal you could try instead-" He trailed off when England averted his gaze.

"No. Fucking. Way! You can't even-?"

"S-Shut up! I tried making porridge in the microwave once but it got stuck to the bowl and Alfred had to use sandpaper to get it off. And even then-Stop laughing!"

"Why? I-It's your fault f-for...Doing it in the first place!" Alfie said between snickers. It took him a few seconds to sober up. He looked at the kitchen clock.

"Anyway, it's still only six in the morning, I doubt anyone's dumb enough to open up shop at this time."

"Except maybe one of those chain junk food places," they both shuddered.

"I do know a place though," Arthur continued. "It's just a small cafe around the corner but they really know their regulars and the waitress is really nice. I've never taken anyone with me there before though."

"Why?" Alfie asked. "Scared those idiots that you're forced to call friends will say something horrid about the food?" The 1P shook his head.

"No, the owner has a powerful right hook. I just don't want the poor man to get arrested for punching a nation. Even if said nation bloody deserves it."

"So when does it open then?" The red eyed man leaned on the dining room table.

"Eight."

"And you think you can last until then?" England rolled his eyes.

"It's only two hours, not two weeks! And besides, there's barely anything here. What do you expect me to do? Nibble a tea bag?" Alfie pointed at the "bouquet" lying on the table.

"Ah..."

The American undid the ribbon and picked up two of the larger vegetables. He looked at the green-eyed man.

"Did your France leave anything behind that could actually cut something?"

"No, unless you fancy trying to chop them up with a teaspoon."

2P America decided that it was probably too early in the morning to follow the Brit's advice. He would have loved to smash them up with his baseball bat but he didn't want to break England's table in the process.

Because, unlike the dicks in his own world, he could tolerate Arthur.

Yes he liked Arthur...A lot.

"Um... Are you alright?"

The 2P blinked himself back into reality.

"Huh?" Arthur's large eyebrows were furrowed in concern.

"Do you have a fever?"

"..." The tanned man looked at him blankly.

"Your face, it's red."

"Oh shit!" Alfie said, realizing that he was blushing. "No I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Really."

"Okay, because-"

"I SAID I'M FUCKING FINE, DAMMIT!" The American 2P yelled before realizing what he had just done. "...Sorry, I didn't mean to shout!" England crossed his arms.

"Whatever. It wasn't like I was worried about you anyway. I just didn't want to have to fawn over you like a bloody nurse, that's all. Yes, it was all for my sake." The Barbie pink which painted his cheeks said otherwise.

"Anyway, are you going to prepare those bloody carrots or not?" Alfie had almost forgotten about the orange vegetables in his hands.

"Oh yeah! He snapped off the tops and bottoms using his hands before shoving them in the sink for a couple of seconds. Finally, he handed one to Arthur who muttered a quick "thank you."

"Why don't we make a toast?" Alfie smirked as his crush raised an eyebrow.

"With carrots? Are you bloody serious?"

"Yep," The 2P extended his arm towards the 1P, an arm topped with a carrot-clasped hand.

"To new friendships?" God he felt as if his taste buds were being decomposed by Oliver's cooking just from saying that horrid sentence.

Arthur reached out, allowing his pre-breakfast snack to lightly bump that of the American's.

"Sure, to new friends." God he felt like he had been locked in a cupboard with the BTT and America for five hours just from saying that horrid sentence.

_But still,_ England thought as he tucked into his carrot. _There's still time._

**_There's still hope that I can peel him away from my double's side._** Alfie decided mentally.

_I don't care what Alfred bloody says._

**_I don't care if the other nations treat me like some shit headed idiot._**

_One day..._

_**One day...**_

_I WILL TELL HIM HOW I REALLY FEEL!_

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><p><span><strong>Five years later...<strong>

"I can't believe we actually got to this..." England whispered as the vicar droned on.

"Ditto," was all he got in response. Arthur huffed, apple green eyes scanned the room. Nations form both universes had come to watch the wedding. Even Alfred and Oliver! Although, judging by the chains they were both bound in, the British man wasn't sure if they had come voluntarily.

He narrowed his eyes at Francis, who was waggling his eyebrows suggestively. It was the frenchman's fault that he was wearing a wedding dress in the bloody first place! He had teamed up with Poland and shoved him in the cursed fabric when he had least expected it. The only reason he had agreed to wear it on his big day was because Alfie had caught him before he could get changed and said he looked cute.

_Alfie... _

Arthur turned his head to look at his husband to be.

It had been three years after that day where they shared carrots in his kitchen when Alfie confessed and Arthur hugged him, crying about how he felt the same way.

It hadn't been easy announcing their relationship to the other nations in either world. Most 1Ps like France, Japan and Hungary accepted it straight away. Some, like Norway, Switzerland and Germany, took a while to accept it but finally did so.

America never did.

It hurt Arthur to know that but he understood why, he would have been pissed too if it had been Alfred and Oliver. Someone dear to you dating your doppelganger would be quite hurtful.

But Arthur loved Alfie and that's all that mattered.

"You may now kiss the nation."

England was snapped out of his chain of thought when a hand clasped around his wrist and his was pulled forward.

"What the-? Mmph!" He felt his eyes snap shut as he melted into the strong arms that now held him. Their lips melded together and the rest of the world faded away. The sounds of cameras and squealing female nations didn't reach their ears and tongues fought for dominance in foreign mouths. Eventually, they broke apart to catch their breaths. Alfie chuckled.

"Shall we go then?"

"Yes, lets." Arthur was about to walk back down the aisle when he was knocked off his feet and into a now familiar pair of arms.

"Hey! I'm not a bloody girl!" He yelled, flailing about as Alfie descended the aisle himself.

"You're wearing a dress, babe."

"Don't remind me!" The brunette laughed.

"Why, you look cute." The blonde crossed his arms and looked away in an attempt to hide his blush.

"That better not be the only reason you married me."

"Of course not," the 2P smirked. "Anyway," he said as they reached the exit and turned around to face all of their guests. "I think it's time you threw the bouquet."

"Bouquet? But I don't-Oh very funny!" England watched as 2P Canada, Alfie's best man, approached the two newly weds and handed the 'bride' a bunch of carrots tied with a green ribbon.

"I know I am. I'm also, strong, charming and ever so sexy." Alfie laughed.

"So are you going to throw it?"

Arthur nodded, kissing his new husband on the cheek before hurling the vegetables into the audience.

They hit Oliver right in the face and knocked him off his chair.

Alfie had never been prouder of his lover.


End file.
